


Not Even Death Could Do Us Part

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Character Death, Coma, Death, Feels, Funeral, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-10-02 03:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10208135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They say Time is a cruel master. I beg to differ. Time gives you all that he is.They say Death is merciless. On the contrary. Death ends your suffering.They say Life is short. And for this I must agree. It is the longest thing you'll ever do, but it never seems long enough.We weren't soulmates, far from it in fact, we fought relentlessly and constantly. That didn't stop us from loving one another however.





	

"They say Time is a cruel master. I beg to differ. Time gives you all that he is.

They say Death is merciless. On the contrary. Death ends your suffering.

They say Life is short. And for this I must agree. It is the longest thing you'll ever do, but it never seems long enough.

We weren't soulmates, far from it in fact, we fought relentlessly and constantly. That didn't stop us from loving one another however.

He was an arrogant son of a bitch, but he was mine. He was mine until the very end.

I met him through work- we were both lawyers. We worked at different firms, though we were almost always going against one another. The first time we met outside of work was at a party a mutual friend of ours, Lafayette, was throwing. We didn't talk, but we spent the entire night glaring at one another from across the room. Was it glaring though? Or something else, something more intimate?

I suppose, looking back at it now, that that was the first time I started to think about him less as an opponent and more as a person.

We then started to see each other more and more. Whether it be in court or at a local coffeeshop, we were always bumping into one another. Sometimes, I wonder, if he planned it that way.

Eventually I decided that we knew each other well enough to meet up. We went to the library and ended the night with a walk around central park. When our night came to a close he walked me back to my apartment and we parted ways. We didn't mention it next time we saw one another and it was almost as if it were a dream.

The next time we got together was at a bar. Apparently an old friend of his had died and he needed someone to talk to. I hate to admit it, but I can't help but to feel grateful that she had died, because if she hadn't I would have never had this moment with him. We seemed to connect on a level that I had never deemed possible before.

A couple of months later he quit his job and instead started to work at my firm- our firm. We stopped working against one another and instead started to work with each other. We were a lot more powerful together then we had ever been apart.

I don't know when exactly we hooked up for the time, but I do remember our times together: waking up in each other's arms, eating breakfast and watching the news, coming home and winding down. It was all so domestic. I've never had that before. And I'll probably never have it again.

We had twelve months together. One year. One year of pure ecstasy. It wasn't perfect, but it was real. We fought, yes, but who doesn't? We threatened to leave one another, but we always came back. That is until I got the phone call.

That night, I forget what we were fighting about, but we were fighting. He left to try and cool down. Soon an hour passed, then two. Finally something came, and it brought my world shattering down around me.

He had been in an accident, it didn't look too good. I left as soon as I could to the hospital where he was.

I remember being told that he was in surgery. Relief had filled my system. You don't perform surgery on a dead person. That's what I kept telling myself. It lasted twelve hours. It felt like an eternity. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't even write. When they finally let me see him I couldn't believe it was him. His normally dark skin looked pale and his uncontrollable mass of hair was matted to his face. There were wires everywhere. I couldn't stand to see him that way.

Days passed by and he still wouldn't wake up. So everyday I would sit there and talk to him. The nurses said that he could hear me so I tried to make the most of it. I told him the cases I was working on, I read him essays I had written, hell I even read him the case file from the trial where we first met.

Soon days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. He still wouldn't wake up. Slowly the visitors who used to come stopped coming, they already accepted I what refused not to. The doctors said his chances of recovering we getting slim and that I should start preparing for the inevitable. I refused to accept that he might not make it through, because he had to, he had to.

I don't know where the time had went, but soon a year had passed. He didn't wake up for our anniversary, and he wouldn't wake up ever. They took him off life support, the monitor flat lined. When they pronounced him dead I didn't feel anything. I just felt numb, because he couldn't really be gone. Though, he was gone, he had been for a year. By then his scent had faded from what were once his clothes, and most of his personal items were packed away in storage. It was almost like he hadn't existed, and that was what pained me more than anything.

I hadn't realized it then, but I had already started to move on, because the man laying in that bed surrounded by wires and machinery wasn't the man I loved. He wasn't Thomas.

Thomas was the man who would wake up before the alarm would go off so it wouldn't wake me up, he was the man who insisted we ate out at the most pretentious restaurants he could find, he was the man who would sneak up behind me and attack me with kisses. The man who had been laying in that bed for a year in silence wasn't Thomas, because my Thomas could never be silent for that long. My Thomas utilized all the advantages he had been offered in life. He was- and still is -the only man who could match my wit. I will never meet a man as amazing as him again. I am incredibly grateful to have had him in my life for as long as I did. I love you." And with that Alexander Hamilton walked away, head bowed, to join the crowd.

Friends and family alike gathered to bid Thomas Jefferson goodbye. A few of them spoke about him, some remained quiet, and all were mourning the loss of a great man. Alexander remained strong for his friends, he did not cry because he was over that part now. He had more important things he needed to do.

They lowered the body into the ground and soon, one by one, they left. Life goes on. Alexander stood there alone in the middle of a field in Virginia in front of a single grave marker. 'It's what he would have wanted,' he thought. Then he sunk down onto one knee and pulled out a ring,

"Not even death could do us part, so will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"


End file.
